


Don't Wait For Me

by coffeeblossoms02



Series: People Come and Go, So Does Pain [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, M/M, Self-Destruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:11:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeblossoms02/pseuds/coffeeblossoms02
Summary: Jisung wants Minho to let him love the elder





	Don't Wait For Me

**Author's Note:**

> honestly? this is just word vomit of self projection. please don't hate me. i swear i love minsung and stray kids, even though i only discover them recently. anyway, enjoy! 

"It's unfair."

 _There he goes again._

The old brown couch underneath their bodies sinks lower. The random drama playing in the tv serves as white noise, overriden by Minho’s hushed whining. All of the lamps turned off, because Minho likes the place dark, even though they had to go through several arguments over the same issue at first because Jisung hates dark.

"Why do I have to understand them, but nobody even wants to try and understand me?" Minho groans pathetically. Exhausted, if the ugly black bags under his eyes say anything; done, the gleam that used to adorn his eyes is replaced by dull, unbothered and dead look; irritable, every little thing sends him to the edge. 

 _Well, who's not, to be fucking honest._

"I'm tired of being a victim of pent up frustration. I understand everyone needs to vent sometimes," he sighs deeply. "But it's unhealthy for both parties, you know, if you just lash out at someone just because they simply accept and do nothing against it," he mutters quietly. He looks forward, but not looking at anything in particular. He's staring into the void. The abyss is reflected crystal clear in his eyes. 

Jisung reaches out to hold his hand, intertwining their hands together. He doesn't know what to say to unwind his troubled mind, but he knows he has to make sure the elder knows, that he will always be there for him. He tries to muster the best comforting smile for him, but he feels her heart breaking as a pair of dull eyes staring back at him. He knows Minho gave up fighting his mind long ago, that he thought it was easier to let his destructive thoughts to consume him before he could completely let it go. What Jisung didn't know was, it would bring pain for him to see Minho breaking, like Minho’s pain was also consuming him too. 

“I’m sorry, hyung,” is all the younger between the two can offer.

Minho turns to him, smiling weakly, kissing Jisung’s knuckles. Jisung frowns, he wishes he doesn’t understand the emotions flickering in the elder’s wide eyes. He feels his throat constricted.

The elder swings their joined hands together. "I know I shouldn't be complaining since I always say that I want to help everyone free from their stress, that I want them to rely on me. But it's starting to get to me. And I don't know to do."

Jisung rests his forehead on Minho’s shoulder and closes his eyes, sighing. "Neither do I." He hopes Minho can’t hear him, but he’s pressed to him, and Minho still has good hearing. The silence that meets him creates lump in his throat, the air feels too heavy for Jisung to breathe properly. 

Minho sighs, chest heaving heavily as he does so. "I'm sorry you have to put up with me."

Jisung shakes her head, wraps his free hand on the elder’s torso. "I'm glad I can help, even if it's... nothing. I just wish I can do something to make you feel okay again."

Minho turns his head to see Jisung’s face, but Jisung buries his face deeper on his neck, inhaling the mix of his scent, his lotion, and fabric softener on his shirt. Minho lets go of his hand and hugs him, bringing him closer to his body. He needs to feel the younger male next to his vein. He needs to feel his warmth to remind him, that there's something good in this cold world after all. Jisung is like a dream come true for him, he felt like he won big the day they met, he still does. Jisung is everything good that ever happens to Minho. If only his falling doesn't affect the younger negatively. He strokes his longer hair, humming. "You already do, love. You always make me feel okay."

Jisung whines, his voice cracked, muffled by Minho’s shirt, "Why does it feel like you're the one comforting me instead, not the other way around?"

"I'd like to think that's because our energies resonate too well with each other. You absorb my energy," he pauses, then whispers, "Which is pretty much negative right now."

Jisung laughs, "What a romantic irony."

He knows that Minho knows, that staying with the elder drains him dry, even more so lately. He’s only alive with Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around him, his friends started to complain about him being too lethargic to function. There's no need for him to deny them. They were right. But Jisung can't let Minho go, not now. Not when Minho needs him the most. Not when he feels comfortable slowly drowning deeper into the dark with Minho. Even if it costs him more than he wants to think about. 

Minho leans back on the headrest, looking at the ceiling. There's nothing special about the bland surface above him, but the texture diverts his focus out of his own head for a moment, and that's enough reason for him to keep staring at it. Until he feels Jisung wriggling in his embrace. 

"Aren't you hungry?" He asks shyly. 

Minho laughs quietly. Jisung always asks that question every time he is hungry, and that's endearing for him. He is hungry, but he doesn't want to eat. He loves food, but no meal can satisfy the empty shell that he is so he never listens to his stomach even if it's protesting loudly to him, or aching in revenge to him. But this is his princess asking, and even if eating is the last thing he wants to do, the princess doesn't need to starve himself with him.  "What do you want to eat, love?"

Jisung pulls away enough he can look at Minho in the eye. "Do we have pasta?"

Minho reaches out to slip a strand of hair behind Jisung’s ear, "I don't know, but I can make a quick trip to the mart."

Jisung’s eyes widen then he shakes his head vigorously, "No! Please, hyung, you don't have to! I'll eat whatever available."

Minho cups Jisung’s face on his hand gently. The younger’s gaze softens visibly. He speaks softly, as if afraid Jisung is going to cower away from him if he speaks a notch louder, "Don't fuss it Princes, my love, I want to do it." _For you_ , he leaves unsaid. 

Jisung only nods, too hungry to argue. Minho smiles in satisfaction then kisses each of Jisung’s plump cheeks before walking out of their room. Minho can feel Jisung’s eyes on him, heavy, burning, longing, but he doesn’t look back.

Minho walks to the twenty per seven mart down the block by himself. He needs some time alone, and walking around under the moonlight always helps refreshing his mind by a bit. He's grateful that Jisung understands his need of some space, even though the helplessness in his eyes is hard to miss. 

The cashier nods to greet him the moment he enters the place. Minho knows him and some other employees due to his frequent visits there. But he likes this particular cashier with angular face but overall soft features. The other male has warm, comforting presence. He looks like human sized teddy bear, and Minho thinks Jisung would love to cuddle him to sleep if allowed. 

He lets his foot leads him to the shelves where pastas are stored. He knows the mart like the back of his hand, he could find anything with eyes closed. He arrives there in a blink.

He picks up several boxes of instant spaghetti then walks to the drinks showcase. He contemplates to buy canned coffee for himself, a bit longer than necessary, until someone behind him coughs loudly. He picks up random can and moves away, grinning an apology sheepishly to the annoyed stranger. 

"Anything else?" The cashier asks him with kind smile, and his eyes, though there's a flicker of boredom in it, radiating the golden hours warmth. 

He looks up to the cigarette shelves behind the cashier, "A pack of those poison, please."

The cashier lifts his brow in a mix of surprise and confusion, since Minho never comes to buy cigarettes, but he doesn't say anything. "Which one?"

Minho shrugs, "Surprise me."

He laughs incredulously, "Sir, I've never smoked my whole damn life so I don't know how it tastes like, much less the difference. I'm not sure I can give you the best choice."

Minho shoves one hand to his pocket, feigning indifference, offering his lopsided smile. "All the more reason it's gonna be fun."

He rolls his eyes but his lips smiling crookedly, "Don't come at me if you run out of luck." Then he turns to take whatever his hand reaches first before his weird customer can react. He waves his choice in his hand, and Minho nods curtly, amused smile adorning his face. He shrugs, more to himself, then shoved the pack in the bag with Minho's other groceries. He hands the shopping bag, looking at Minho in the eye, "Here you go."

Minho smiles weakly, "Thanks." But he's surprised when Woojin, the cashier, as the name tag says, doesn't let go of the bag and looks behind him and back to his eyes. Unconsciously, Minho follows Woojin's eyes, looking back over his shoulder. But he finds nothing. He looks back at the man before him, "Something's wrong?"

Minho almost chokes when he sees Woojin's eyes piercing through his soul, cut him open to the core, leaving him bare, but he also has the kindest smile on his face, the kind of smile that warms your heart, that reaches your soul and makes you feel safe to be vulnerable in front of him. 

"The sun will rise again, tomorrow," he says before letting go of the bag, the plastic rustles in the process, but Minho's mind's whirling too loudly in his head for him to notice. 

Minho knows there are still genuinely kind people out there. But to meet one really shakes him to the core. He knows Woojin is different, from his presence alone. But his own revelation of the other male earlier makes him embarrassed of himself. Heed embarrassed of how impure, how inconsiderate, how insensitive he is to his surroundings, compared to Woojin. But more than anything, he is glad that Woojin has singlehandedly restored his faith in humanity. He's glad he made that trip the the store, to experience a kind person first hand. And somehow, Woojin's words rings in his head, lighting his dark mind for the moment. 

He walks out to the night air. The wind blows softly on him, sending chills down his spine. He hates cold, but he can't be bothered to cover himself. He needs every physical pain to remind him that he's still alive, to remind him that even though he wants to die so badly, he'd still gasp for air if needed. He needs that annoying feeling of cold air creeping on his skin to distract him from the pain of being alive. 

He takes unnecessary further route back home. On the other times, he'd go anywhere far away, walking, just to clear his head. But Jisung is waiting for him at home, hungry, and he can't do that to the younger. 

Though, he still walks slowly, basking in the quiet ambiance. He opens his can of coffee and takes a sip. He scrunches his nose at the overly sweet taste. But he needs the caffeine running in his system, and he’s too physically, mentally drained to go to the nearest coffee shop, so he can't complain. He drains the contents sip by sip, contemplating inwardly if it's worth it to die out of diabetes than of the caffeine he basically lives off. 

He's read somewhere on the internet that coffee, with the right amount, can help with depression, and it prolongs your life span. He laughed at the irony then. The said substance does nothing to his fall, creating unnecessary addition to his life called addiction instead. But he lives for the instant, unhealthy remedy. He's just sorry that the statistics have proven the hopeful coffee consumers that it helps with your life expectancy, when he, as an individual coffee addict, doesn't even want to see another daylight. 

And apparently, the void is so insatiable coffee can’t even momentarily calm his nerves down. So he tried smoking. Though it tastes horrid, he thought he lost his lung at his first try, he let himself relents to one more damned addiction. He knows he’s destroying himself from the inside. But that’s what he wants. And the harsh substances are nothing compared to the destruction that comes from the inside. From his own troubled mind. He wonders since when did he fall into pitless abyss like this.

He comes home to find Jisung curling under the cover in their room, there are remnants of tears staining his plump cheeks. He sighs. He knows he’s dragging his lover down with him. Jisung is highly sensitive, and Minho is a neurotic. _What an incredible pair_ , he scoffs to himself. He's tried to shut Jisung down, drove him away, even blatantly asking for a break up, but the younger didn't budge. Jisung stays with him, even though everybody can see the light starting to leave his once lively body. The younger stays with him, even though he knows he cries in the bathroom, with shower running to cover his weeping sounds.

The younger is a ball of sunshine. Or was, before Minho’s depression got to him. He was Minho’s, and everyone’s happy pill. He laughed a lot, and when he did, the whole world lit up, and everyone laughed along with him. Because that was how contagious his smile, his laughs were. Minho wouldn’t have noticed, if it wasn’t for Felix pointing out to him that Jisung faked his laughter most of the time. And Seungmin, though more gentle, mentioned how Jisung was always seemed so tired when Minho wasn’t around. Minho never loathed himself so much before, for ceasing the glow from their sunshine.

Jisung stirs awake when Minho caresses his cheek with his thumb, wiping his tears. He smiles sweetly to Minho. The same smile Minho sees every time he comes home to since they moved in together, the smiles that greets him on the door when he’s done for the day, worn inside out. The same smile that lights up his world, the smile that charges energy back to him, unless there's a layer of faux joy behind it now. And Minho only has himself to blame.

"What took you so long?" Jisung whines, his voice thick from sleep.

Minho kisses his forehead, lips linger for a few second, inhaling his lover’s sweet scent. "Sorry, love. I got lost."

Jisung snorts with adorable blush decorating his face from the kiss, pusing Minho’s face away from him, "And I'm not hungry anymore."

The elder of the two chuckles, taking Jisung’s hand in his and kisses the back of his hand. "Go back to sleep. I'll let you know when the pasta’s ready."

Jisung smiles and shakes her head, "I'll come with you. If I go back to sleep, who knows if I’m ever gonna wake up."

Minho laughs, pulling Jisung him with. His lover is a heavy sleeper, and most of the time, gets cranky if his sleep disturbed. He always sleeps through his annoying, blaring alarm, leaving Minho with the task to wake him up and get ready for the day.

He cooks in silence with Jisung dozing off on the table. He tries focus on the simple pasta. He loves it when he cooks for Jisung. The younger always compliments his food, even though it’s too salty or tasteless. But now, he feels nothing as he stirs the sauce in the pan, glaring at it as if it would have something to help with his own mind.

He plates the pasta and places it in front of Jisung, then shakes his shoulder gently, “Love, dinner’s ready.”

Jisung grunts, “Five minutes.”

Minho laughs quietly, “No can do, love. Come on. It’s gonna get cold.”

Jisung sits up, grunting, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Feed me.”

Minho shakes his head fondly at the younger. Jisung acts childish sometimes, stubborn and demanding. A pain in the ass. But he’s Minho’s pain in the ass. He complies, dragging a chair closer to him and starts feeding him. Jisung hums happily to him as he munches his food.

“You’re not eating?” he asks.

Minho wipes the sauce on the corner of Jisung’s lips, smiling. “Not hungry," he says. He cringes inwardly at how easily the lie rolls off of his tongue. 

Jisung whines, stomping his foot childishly, “I don’t wanna eat alone!”

“I’m technically here with you, how come you’re eating alone?”

Jisung huffs, folding his hands on his chest. “You’re losing weight, you know.”

Minho puts the fork down, holding both of Jisung’s hands in his. “Don’t worry about me, love. Worry about yourself.”

Jisung frowns, “I’m your boyfriend, why can’t I worry about you?”

“Because you are my boyfriend. Let me take care of you, Princess. You shouldn’t worry about a thing.”

Jisung snorts, “Relationship is two way road, huyng. I want to take care of you too. I love you.”

“You know I love you too, love. But do you see what I’m doing to myself? I can’t love myself. Let me love you instead.”

A tear rolls down Jisung’s cheek. “That’s why I’m here, idiot. I’m here to love you while you can’t. I’ll love you until you learn to love yourself.”

Minho wipes his tear, “Oh love, please don’t cry...”

Jisung slaps Minho’s hand away from his face, pulling him harshly by the neck to kiss him roughly. He doesn’t give the elder the chance to think, biting his lower lip. He shoves his tongue into Minho when he groans in pain.

Minho pulls away, holding Jisung’s shoulder to keep him in place, “Love, no.”

“What? Why? You don’t want me anymore?” He cries.

“Don’t use yourself like this, love.”

“Then how do I show you that I love you?”

“You’re here, that’s enough for me.”

“I’m here physically, but do you let me in? You open up about your pain to me but you never let me fix you. How is that enough?”

He sighs. “I’ve ruined you enough, love. Look at you. You don’t even take care of yourself anymore.”

“How can I take care of myself when the person I love is crumbling right before my eyes?”

“Love...”

“Don’t! Don’t say anything!” Jisung climbs onto Minho’s lap, “Please, let me love you.”

Minho can only holds him tight as Jisung’s lips collide with his. The kiss is angry and sad at the same time. It’s salty like Jisung’s tears with a mix of the taste of his pasta and regret. He can feel Jisung’s body burning on his lap, trembling from anger, his grip on his hair rough with desperation. The younger has never been so desperate, never one to initiate, leave alone to force himself for a kiss, never used his body for anything, even with Minho. He knows he’s changed him. And he can feel the salt of his own tears mixed with Jisung’s and their saliva. He’s sorry that Jisung has to go through this damaged relationship.

 

Minho checks the bus parked before him before getting in. His heart is aching in his chest. His throat dry, he can’t breathe and there’s tears welling in his eyes. He closes his eyes, exhaling deeply. He’s got this.

In the bus, he’s greeted by sleepy faces. He can’t blame them, it’s still way too early in the morning. Nobody has enough energy to pretend to be lively at such hours. He knows he’s no better than everyone in the bus himself. Barely took his time to get ready, moving as efficiently, as quietly as he could. He didin’t even check if he brought the essentials with him as he slipped out of the house. He moves to his designated seat and leans back to the uncomfortable, smells horrid cushion. He’s going to regret this but this has to be done.

He flips out his phone, scrolling through his photos with Jisung. The younger always smiles in every picture, not wanting to look less than presentable. But as the dates get more recent, his smiles changed. Jisung’s smiles on those pictures don’t quite reach his eyes anymore and he looks exhausted. How come Minho never noticed?

_Congratulations, fucker. You’ve ruined him. You can’t even make him happy, you good for nothing piece of trash._

He taps on a video of them in a karaoke room. They loved singing, or more like screaming the lyrics to the poor microphone. Jisung was shy at first, not believing his singing voice. But after Minho’s coaxing, he sang and Minho got addicted at the first taste. Jisung’s voice is smooth, wide ranged, and he can reach high notes comfortably. In that video, they were singing Big Bang’s Bang Bang. He recorded it with the front camera, showing his face briefly before exposing Jisung releasing his stress after the exam week wholeheartedly to the song. He looked like he genuinely enjoyed his time.

Minho locks his phone and shoves it carelessly to his bag. Jisung is going to hate him. But that’s what he wants. It’s the best for the both of them. Or so Minho decides one-sidedly.

He looks forward, even though all he can see is the back of seats. But as long as the bus is moving forward, he’s contented. He feels the vehicle moving, taking him away from home. He doesn’t look back. He didn’t. Afraid if he looked back, he’s going to run back. Back to Jisung. Back to ruining the younger further than he already has. And he doesn’t want that.

 

Jisung wakes up to his neighbor’s yelling. His neighbor seems to be engaged in fights with her husband more frequently lately, it’s starting to worry him. But his head is pounding he doesn’t have the time to worry about his neighbor for now.

He reaches to the other side of the bed to find it cold. He snaps his head to the side, the empty space glaring back at him. He looks outside the window, the sun is already high in the sky, shining more harshly, leaving painfully bright orange hue to everything it touches. Minho always woke him up after he opened his eyes. An ugly feeling settles on his stomach.

He rushes to the bathroom. It’s eeriely dry, clean from any traces of water or anything. He runs to the kitchen to find a plate of breakfast and a folded paper on the table. He feels his stomach sinks. He braced himself before stepping closer to the paper. He doesn’t know why he dreads each step he takes, but he doesn’t like the feeling. He takes the paper in his hand carefully, and he doesn’t even want to know why he’s shaking uncontrollably.

They said your gut is always right.

His legs give up on him as they collide with the cold tiles under him with harsh, loud thud. He really wishes he was blind. He wishes he read wrong. But the ugly, rushed hadwriting stares back at him in pity. His dam breaks.

 

Hi Love,

If you’re reading this, i’m already on my way. Idk where to go, tbh. But i’m going there.

Don’t wait for me, my love. Let go of me. Forget me.

I’m not good for you.

Don’t hate yourself. This is not your fault. This is mine. I’m too selfish to keep you by my side all this wile. When i’m like this. When i can’t even make you happy. You deserve better, my love, you deserve to be happy.

You deserve someone who can make you happy and smile genuinely, even when you’re not physically with them. You deserve someone who looks at you in the eye and see a future, together with you. You deserve someone who touches you out of love, not as a distraction from the pain of living. You deserve someone who loves you for you are, not your company. Don’t lower yourself for someone else, my love. Don’t settle for someone who doesn’t treat you as a princess you are.

With you, i was happy my love. So, so incredibly happy. But i know you know the happiness ceased to exist long ago. Why were you still with me, my love? Ah, i guess i don’t deserve to call you that anymore.

Jisung, please forget me.

Forget that i ever exist.

Forget you ever met me.

Forget we ever got together.

That’s for the best for us.

Forget me, move on, live your life, be happy, find someone new.

Tell your friends they were right, i’m not good for you.

Tell your parents they were right, i’m too broken for someone as precious as you.

Tell yourself that you hate me, that you don’t need me, and you can be happy without me.

Lastly, thank you Jisung. Thank you for all your love, your time, and your effort. Thank you for everything.

 

Minho

 


End file.
